Jiminy Cricket MUST Die by Joseph DiLella

 
A conscience
     with good intentions
was not a problem
he couldn’t fake
to all the women
lovers galore.
 
Each one took his bait
as hungry, sheltered coy
in an indoor pond,
eagerly awaiting
bread crumbs
from the master of the house.
 
As any good fisherman would,
Paulino threw back
the undersized,
the adolescents
the old and tired
who gasped for air
every time he walked by their world.
 
After seven years
of lying, cheating and stealing
the hearts
of all around him,
the Casanova woke up one night
in a cold sweat,
rubbed his bloodshot eyes
and thought
he saw a pussy cat
but no, it was turquoise fairy
     like those found in Grimm’s tales
buzzing around the corner of his bed post.
 
“I have been watching
the dalliances you do
to those with pure intentions
and what have you given them in return?” it asked
before zipping
back and forth
across his face
in a figure eight.
 
“I’ve given them
the times of their lives
- now beat it bitch,
I have sleep to catch
for the Morgan twins
are just a night away,” he replied
before rolling over on his stomach
pillows secured over his head.
 
More than miffed,
the guardian of love lost
screamed
in the ear of the drunk,
“From this day forward,
your nose will grow
an inch
for each lie
you spin.”
 
Rolling on his back,
pillows pushed aside,
the lothario chucked,
and pointed directly due south,
and asked for growth
in another part
of his
anatomy.
 
Livid, the blue one
screeched
at such a high pitch
each and every neighbor’s
dogs bayed to the moon
like wolves of the night.
 
“Two inches it be
for not only lies
but thoughts of misconceptions
on other unsuspecting souls.”
 
And with that threat
she shot through the open window
and into the clear sky,
leaving the player
to his own machinations.
 
Facing the bathroom mirror
in the morning,
the muscular, handsome man
moved woodenly
as he stretched
before asking
and answering
his daily question:
“Tell me oh wise one,
who is the fairest of the land?
You are of course -
why bother asking?”
and upon that proclamation
his proboscises grew
two inches,
maybe an inch
more.
 
Lie
big or small
after lie
to others or himself
after lie
     at work, the gym, or in the car
left the stunned human amazed
at the witchcraft
that stole his vanity, conceit and bravado
until all that remained
was a man
who knew that truth
was not stranger than fiction.
 
After five plastic surgeons
performed the voodoo
they did best,
Paulino quit work
as a personal trainer at Gold’s Gym
to hide his disfigurement
at home.
 
The lover of once impeccable looks
resorted to selling insurance
– life, car and household -
online
until even that job
proved too difficult
for a charmer of words
and a nose that grew
to the size of a
pole vault stick.
 
One final plastic surgery later
     with all his cash reserves spent,
the lonely bachelor
decided to meet single ladies
electronically
but not to entrap fair maidens
but to simply
talk, discuss and share life’s
problems.
 
Cautiously,
he accepted an invitation
from another lonely heart,
and left his liar
for a bar, Mickey’s Castle,
across the street
but he hid his face
in a Richard Nixon mask
that Halloween night.
 
The practiced liar
was surprised to see
the woman of his dreams
sitting in a booth
in the back
dressed as a renaissance princess.
 
“Do you like my costume?”
the twenty seven year old asked
the fallen victim
of several dozen affairs
of the heart.
 
“I do, I do,”
Paulino replied as if
he were taking for her hand
in marriage.
 
“Take off that mask,
show me the real
you.”
 
The beast
succumbed to the beauty’s
request and removed
the camouflage
and to her amazement
she too saw the man
- with the most perfect size nose -
and the prince
of her dreams.
 
“Do you believe in love
at first sight?” she asked.
 
“I can honestly say
I never have
. . . until tonight.”
 
The two kissed,
and before Paulino
could take her hand
he noticed the fairy tormenter
high in the corner of the bar
smiling
before she zoomed off
through the air conditioner grate
in the ceiling.
 
All seemed right
in Paulino’s
and Paula’s world
until the unmasked man,
inadvertently
stepped on
and crushed
a tiny brown cricket
under the table,
named . . . Jiminey. 

Author bio:

After teaching in a southwest state-run university for five years, Joseph is finally back at home with his wife and 21 month old baby girl. Whether it is relaxing on the beach in southern California or juggling teaching gigs at San Diego State University and other universities, the author plans to take time writing poems and short stories while contemplating his navel and deciding on which direction he wishes his life to take for himself and his family. But be assured - you will see his works in Clockwise Cat.